Trapped
by chris-daae
Summary: Based on a tumblr prompt: "How exactly did you manage to get stuck in there?" "He's there! The Phantom is there! He's hanging from the ceiling, upside down, just like a bat!" [Guardian Angel series]


"He's there! The Phantom is there! He's hanging from the ceiling, upside down, just like a bat!"  
Little Jammes entered the practice room shouting, her face both excited and scared. All the other ballerinas ran to her, full of questions, except for little Meg.  
"Where is him?"  
"Did you see him?"  
"Is he a Phantom or a vampire?"  
"In the cellar!", replied little Jammes. "He's there, I saw him!"  
"You are lying!", one of the older girls accused.  
"What is he like?", another asked.  
"Did he attack you?"  
"Why do you always make up these stories?"  
"What did you see?"  
All the little voices mixed, asking at the same time, and Jammes was doing her best to answer all and defend herself from the accusations. Sure, she was more creative than the other girls, but this didn't mean she was always lying! She knew what she saw, and what she saw was the Phantom hanging from the ceiling, upside down!  
The loud sound of a cane hitting the floor silenced all the girls' voice.  
"May I know what you were doing in the cellar, Cécile Jammes?", asked Madame Giry, in her usual cold and harsh tone. Some of the girls walked away, not wanting to be scolded too.  
"I... I was...", Little Jammes stuttered, scared. "I am sorry, Madame."  
"Stop making these stories up, and go back to practice."  
"Yes, Madame.", said the girl, running to her position.  
"I don't want to hear any more of these Phantom stories around here. From any of you. And you all know you are forbidden to go to the cellars. It's dangerous, and you could get in the way of the work there. Do you understand?"  
"Yes, Madame.", all the young dancers replied.  
Madame Giry sighed, as she watched the girls- most of them teenagers- go back into position and start practicing. Her daughter, Meg, sixteen, gave her a worried look. She nodded.  
As the girls danced, Madame Giry left the room. Meg followed a bit after.  
"Mother, do you think-?"  
"I don't want to think anything.", Madame Giry replied, sighing.  
She took a lantern and started the walk down to the cellars, Meg following behind. The girl stayed quiet, not wanting to bother her mother even more, seeing she was already worried enough. Madame Giry really was starting to feel a headache. They were becoming more and more common in this last weeks.  
They met Buquet halfway. The stagehand seemed really stressed.  
"Giry, you have to do something about this."  
"I am doing, Joseph. I am doing.", Madame Giry replied, impatient.  
"This kid causes too much trouble. If he behaved well, I could close my eyes and pretend he's not here. But if he continues... I am afraid we will have to kick him out."  
"I said I am doing something!", Madame Giry almost shouted. "Let me deal with this, Joseph. Where is he?"  
Buquet pointed to the dark corridor behind him. Madame Giry sighed for what felt like the milionth time today, and started walking.  
"Did you help him?", Meg asked, shyly. Buquet shook his head.  
"He got himself in there, he gets out. That kid is not a good kid like you, Mademoiselle. He will not learn anything if we keep patting his head."  
Meg just nodded, not knowing what she could say.  
"I hope your mother realizes it before it's too late. She's way too soft on him." With these words, he walked away.  
Meg ran after her mother.  
It seemed Jammes' story was really not a lie this time. There he was, hanging from the ceiling, upside down. Madame Giry raised her lantern. It seemed there was something tied to his leg. He covered his eyes from the light.  
Madame Giry sighed, her headache getting stronger. She wished to just walk away and leave the young man - he was eighteen, for God's sake, already a man!- there.  
"Erik, how exactly did you manage to get stuck in there?"  
Meg stood behind her mother. She was a bit worried, but the scene in front of her was so absurd that it was funny.  
"There was a trap.", Erik mumbled.  
"A trap?"  
"My trap.", he confessed.  
Madame Giry raised her free hand to her head.  
"Before you explain how did you manage to get caught by your own trap, could you please tell why do you even have traps in first place?"  
"Will you help me or not?"  
Madame Giry gave the lantern to Meg, and took a small knife she always carried. She gave it to Erik so he could cut the rope or whatever that tied him.  
Erik cut it, and fell down to the floor with a loud sound.  
"So?", Madame Giry asked.  
Erik stood up, dusting his clothes. He gave her back the knife.  
"Safety mesaures."  
"Erik-"  
"I know what I'm doing, Madame. Please trust me."  
Oh, how she hated these words.  
"Was getting stuck part of the plan?"  
Erik sighed.  
"It won't happen again."  
"I hope so. Joseph told me that if you keep causing trouble, you will be kicked out. I can't protect you forever, Erik."  
"If this works, you won't need to, Madame. I will protect myself on my own."  
Madame Giry shook her head.  
"A dancer saw you today. She was telling everyone."  
"Does she know who I am?"  
"No. She thought you were the Phantom."  
Erik smiled. Madame Giry shivered. She knew that smile, she knew it too well, and she knew what it meant: more headaches.  
"No. You will not."  
"Isn't it perfect, Madame? No one will question my presence here, no one will bother me."  
"Will." Not "would", "will". Erik had already made his mind about this, and if Madame Giry knew him, he would not change it easily.  
"You will end up in prison! Is that what you want? To end up in a cage again?", she realized how harsh her words were after they were out. She did not want to attack him. No, she was truly worried about him, and it was worry that made her say this.  
Erik's hands trembled slightly, and he clenched his fists. His gaze lowered, and he walked closer to Madame Giry. Thanks to his last growing spurt, he was now taller than her. Madame Giry felt a little intimidated, something of an irrational fear. She knew Erik, knew he couldn't hurt a fly.  
"That's why I am doing this. So no one will ever be able to put me in a cage again.", he whispered.  
"Erik, please..." Please what? Madame Giry realized she could not argue with him. He was not a little boy anymore, he was already a man. She could not control him even if she tried. "Be careful."  
"I will.", he smiled, again that smile that meant headaches, that meant trouble. "Please, just trust me. I promise I will not make you regret it, Madame."  
Madame Giry nodded.  
"I have to get back to work. Let's go, Meg."  
"I will go in a minute, mother."  
Madame Giry left, leaving Erik and Meg alone. The young girl had only been watching, not really getting all of her mother's worry.  
She chuckled.  
"What?", Erik asked, bothered.  
"You looked really funny hanging from there.", Meg couldn't stop herself from laughing anymore.  
Erik looked down, embarassed.  
"Don't you have some dancing to do? You will never be a star if you keep slacking off like this."  
"I am not slacking off!", Meg protested. "You did not hurt yourself, did you?"  
"Don't worry, it takes more than a little fall to hurt me."  
"Well, good luck with your traps. And try not to be seen. The girls talk."  
"Believe me, you will hear a lot more talking of me if everything works right."  
Meg shrugged.  
"As long as it is not about the silly boy that gets caught in his own traps.", Meg laughed again. Erik stared at her, serious, showing that he didn't find it funny. "Well, I'm going before mother gets mad. Some of us have work to do."  
"Go. Make her proud."  
Meg waved to him, and left. Erik started working on the trap again.


End file.
